I retreated to my rooms, hoping to not raise suspicion myself by lingering too long in the Warrior's halls. I closed the door, shutting out both the bustle of the keep and the spying figure in grey, and leaned against the thick wooden door. I gazed around my room for the last time.
I jumped as a loud knock shook the door behind my back. I hesitated before opening it, unwilling to face Varyar or one of his spies at this late hour. I called out instead and winced at the nervous edge in my voice.
"Who is it?" I lifted my hood further over my face as I glanced in the small mirror on the back of the door; my cheeks were deeply bruised, my lip swollen and still bleeding, and I looked like a cornered animal.
"Open the door, Mornië." Aragorn's rough voice growled through the thick wood. "We have strategy to discuss."
I opened the door slightly, peeking out at him. "You shouldn't be here. I know I asked for your help, but you cannot be seen near my rooms."
He placed one hand flat against the surface of the door and leaned. I tried to close the door but was not strong enough to keep him from forcing it open. I finally stopped resisting and let him in. He smiled grimly and shut the door quickly behind him. I motioned him to a chair, stepping ahead of him to move my traveling bags from the seat. He leaned forward in the chair, clasping his hands loosely in front of him and studying me intently. I ducked my head further into my hood, feigning a chill.
"I could think of no good reason to bring Legolas here with me. Sára said that you were being watched, and I thought it more practical to come alone. But I will be sure he knows what has happened." He cocked his head at me as I tried to conceal my disappointment. I turned away from him to start the task of packing.
I busied myself around the room, sorting through books and personal objects. Clothing would be no difficulty, since I only owned four sets of robes, but I had to choose which of my possessions to leave behind. I stopped in the center of the room, overwhelmed by the task. Aragorn stood, grabbed me by one shoulder, and pushed me into a chair.
"Why are you leaving?" His voice was a low growl, tense with irritation. I glanced at him, confused by the question.
"I do not have a choice, Aragorn. I have been commanded by the head of my Order; I cannot disobey him."
He shook his dark head and snorted doubtfully. "You are not that subservient, Mornië. I have trouble believing that you would simply obey such an order without protest. Why go?"
All the anger and bitterness I had forced down since my meeting with Varyar roared back into my head. "Because if I do not, he will turn me out. I will be put out, Aragorn. Out of the Order and out of the Clans. The Avari prize obedience and loyalty above all else, and there is no place in our world for one who cannot bend to the will of the Clan."
He met my eyes, challenging. "Why are you afraid of leaving? There are places for you to go, you need not remain in exile. Come to Gondor with us, or travel. Visit Mirkwood-you would have a willing guide there."
I shook my head slowly, finding myself appallingly close to tears. "I have seen Varyar put out Shadowwalkers before, Aragorn. They are despised by all Avari. They have no home, no people, no refuge. They cease to exist, even to those who love them the most." I studied my hands while I tried to push down memories of an exiled Walker, of hazel eyes begging me to recognize him, of the dull rotting pain of denying another's existence.
Aragorn touched my trembling hand. "Who was it, Mornië? One of your kin, or a friend?"
"No. His name was Ambar. He was a mage, one of Varyar's former students. He was here when I came. He was the first person I met here; he was so kind to me, those first few months. I missed my family, my home, so much that I couldn't breathe sometimes, and he tried so hard to distract me from that." Once I started, the words seemed to pour out of me.
"We became friends, then lovers. We planned to be Bonded, to become mates. Then he did something or said something- I never found out what because no one was allowed to talk about it. He was put out. We had to witness it, to be there when he was sent away from the Keep. He crossed the courtyard, stripped of his robes, and we all turned our backs on him. He begged me, Aragorn. He begged me to look at him, to see him, to come with him. And I couldn't. I didn't. I turned my back on him, just like the others."
"What happened to him?" I closed my eyes against the sudden pain the question struck into me.
"He died. He drowned himself beside the causeway a month after he was put out. He never tried to go anywhere else; he just stayed on the shore and waited for Varyar to change his mind. Someone must have been feeding him somehow- I don't know who. It wasn't me, but I used to sit in my window at night and watch him and wish I had the courage to go to him."
Aragorn leaned back in his chair, his eyes full of compassion, waiting. I fidgeted under his scrutiny until I could no longer remain silent.
"I can't do that, Aragorn. He was so much stronger than I- if he wasn't able to leave, what would happen to me?"
He shook his head irritably. "What would happen to you? How can I convince you that you would not be abandoned here? You have friends, Mornië, that would not hesitate to help you. None of us would turn our backs on you. All you have to do is send for us, let us know that you are in need."
I nodded thoughtfully. I knew, somehow, that he spoke the truth, yet I still felt bound to obey the command I had been given. I spoke slowly, carefully choosing my words.
"I believe you, when you say these things. But I am still bound by the oath I took when I became a Shadowwalker. I cannot walk away from that as if it meant nothing." I sighed, staring into the fire again.
"Aside from my oath, Varyar is right. Storm Keep has no teacher for their children and no Warriors to help defend it. They need what little I can do for them, especially if this conflict continues."
"But aren't they here, Mornië? I thought Sára said the Clan settlements had emptied."
I smiled at him, pleased that he was comfortable enough with my people to converse freely with them. "Storm Keep is in the deepest part of the Deep Forest. The people there would only come out of their settlement if it had been destroyed. They are not trusting of strangers there."
His face creased in confusion. "Then why are they sending you there, if these people do not care for strangers?"
"I am not a stranger there, Aragorn. Storm Keep is in my home settlement."
~***~
We talked for a few hours; to oblige any curious ears, he outlined his plans for the siege of the Easterling city. He also asked me to draw a map of Storm Keep, then recommended defensive measures in case eyes turned toward the deeper forests. At last he rose, tucking the map into his pocket. He saw my bemused expression and winked.
"This may be useful, later." He clasped my shoulder, a friendly gesture between warriors. "Do not despair, Mornië. A solution will present itself. Until then, I would warn you to be very cautious, and keep your wits about you." He paused at the doorway.
"It wouldn't hurt to keep a blade near you, either. In case someone else takes a notion to strike you."
I sat for a long while after he left, turning his words over in my mind. I reached over to the bed and slipped Rage out of her scabbard. I turned the Blade over in my hands, watching the dying firelight play across the steel. I sheathed her and, impulsively, slid the scabbard under my pillow. If Aragorn believed I would be in enough danger to go constantly armed, developing the habit quickly would be prudent.
Western Elves, I reflected as I finished packing and readied for bed, did not seem to need sleep as my people did. They slid into a half-sleep, a trance, but we were not so lucky. I was exhausted and wanted only to sleep for a few hours before the next day's journey. I crawled under the soft blankets and fell into a dreamless sleep.
Sometime in the grey hours of the morning, I was awakened by a noise at my window. I had my back to the glass and could see a shadow moving across my bedclothes in the pale moonlight. I slid my hand further under the pillow, easing Rage from her scabbard as I heard the window click open softly; my nerves seemed to leap as the intruder slipped into the room, carefully placing feet to avoid noise. As the steps neared my bed, I lunged in an explosion of bedclothes. Rage glittered against his pale throat.
"Are you trying to get killed? What were you thinking, sneaking in my window like that?" My voice was shaking from the sudden burst of fear, and I saw that my blade hand was shaking as well.
Legolas spread his hands in surrender. That strange smile ghosted across his lips as I withdrew the blade.
"I see Aragorn has been coaching you. You are a quick student. I wanted to see you before you left, and I assumed that no one would be watching the outside of the building. It was simple enough- someone very thoughtfully built a column beside your window."
He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes dark. He touched my hair hesitantly, brushing it away from my face. I clasped his fingers in my own to distract him from my face.
"You are troubled, beloved." I pitched my voice low, so that anyone listening outside would not hear our words and carry tales to Varyar. He smiled again, a slight movement of the lips that did not quite touch his eyes.
"I will not deny that I am concerned for you. You will be traveling alone, such a distance, and then will be alone in a place too far away for us to reach quickly should you need us."
I nodded at his words. "That has concerned me, also. I hope that we are far enough out of the sight of the world that we will escape notice."
"How long will you be there?"
"Permanently, I suppose." I sighed, shaking my head. "I doubt that Varyar would simply leave me there until you have left our lands. He will be trying to punish me for even allowing myself to be intrigued by you. He is certainly displeased that there is affection between us; I think he would be less annoyed had it been a physical encounter alone. At least then there would be no possibility of conflict between love and duty."
He chuckled and pulled me into his arms. "I suspect that my father will feel the same." He sobered then, sighing into my hair. "Do you need me to join you there? Aragorn would not be pleased, but there are other archers here, and I would not see you in harm's way."
I twisted in his arms to face him fully. "Legolas, you must not allow yourself to be distracted by concerns for me. You are needed here, and I will not ask you to set aside your responsibilities for my sake. You know that." I tried to be severe with him, but could not hold the expression when he grinned devilishly at me.
His face grew grave again; he coaxed the hanging strands of my hair away from my face. I twisted away from him, but he held me firmly as he examined the bruises on my face. He touched my swollen lip gently, wincing at my gasp of pain. He pulled me into his arms, whispering against my head.
"Aragorn told me you had been injured. I did not realize...who was it assaulted you thus? Was it your master?"
I burrowed my head into his shoulder. "I forgot myself, and was reminded of my place."
He rocked me gently. "It was not the first time, was it? He is the reason you were so shy of us in Minas Tirith."
I nodded. "Varyar does not believe in coddling his Shadowwalkers, particularly those in his close employ. I have an unfortunate tendency to speak without considering the consequences."
"You do not believe you deserve such treatment? Beloved, no one should be permitted to beat another, no matter what was said."
I pushed away from him slightly, my eyes darting over his face. "I did believe so, yes. But now, since I have seen how Aragorn treats his men, his subjects, and how they love him even to their deaths...I cannot think that such loyalty exists here. We do not know love, only fear and intimidation and envy of those who are lucky enough to escape his notice." I smiled wryly. "I fear that being in your company has spoiled me for obedience. I have grown altogether too accustomed to speaking my mind to be pleasing to my master any longer."
He laughed again as I yawned hugely against his chest. He lowered me back onto the pillow and stretched out behind me, curling his arm around my waist. I snuggled back into the curve of his body and tucked my hand into his. He pressed his face into my hair, gently kissing my scalp and the tip of my ear. I could hear his whispered words as they stirred my hair.
"Here I put us both in jeopardy, my own neck at risk climbing down that column, and you're falling asleep. Come, you need rest. You have a long journey ahead of you in the morning." He stroked my hair until I fell asleep.